


Tales of the Alliance

by vjs2259



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Fables - Freeform, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 20:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjs2259/pseuds/vjs2259
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taken from the Ranger's Big Book of The Alliance, as shown in The Deconstruction of Falling Stars, tales of Ivanova the Strong and Delenn the Wise. With apologies and thanks to Aesop for showing the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales of the Alliance

 

**Tales of the Alliance**

_Stories of Ivanova the Strong and Delenn the Wise_

 

**I**

 

One day there were two petitions from worlds desiring entrance into the community governed by Delenn the Wise. Only one request was to be granted that day, and Delenn herself was presiding over the discussion. The words spilled into her ear were many.

 

One world was a single system, peopled with two races with a long history of interdependence and peaceful coexistence. The other was a federation of many worlds, ruled by one race that had beaten and enslaved the others residing within their sphere of influence. They were mighty warriors and Ivanova the Strong, war leader of the Alliance, walked among them, gathering their stories and listening to their boasts and fine tales of battle.

 

When the long day was done, the word came down that the smaller system had won inclusion in Delenn's alliance, and the more populous one was told to apply again at the next gathering. The warriors from the mighty federation were not pleased. Their leader remarked to Ivanova that her alliance would suffer from the loss of so many good fighters.

 

“Possibly,” answered Ivanova. “But the wisdom of a few may outweigh the strength of the many.”

 

_Quality is better than quantity._

Adapted from Aesop: The Vixen and the Lioness.

 

 

**II**

 

Ivanova the Strong was returning alone from a peaceful mission to a neighboring system. She was still far from home when she noticed she was being pursued by ships of a renegade race that was at odds with the Alliance. Realizing she could not escape, she contacted the pursuing ships and entered into parley with them. They told her to follow them into hyperspace and they would beacon-skip to avoid leaving a trail until they reached their world.

 

“But how?” replied the wily Ivanova, thinking they wanted both her and her ship, which though small was of the newest design. “I'm not sure my little craft has the technology to do that!”

 

The reply came that it was simple and they would demonstrate how she could use the beacons for both finding direction and avoiding detection. Proudly they asked her to try and trace their course as one of their ships entered hyperspace and returned. Ivanova found that she could not indeed keep track of the ship beyond the first beacon.

 

When the renegade ship returned, it was followed by a set of White Stars, drawn by the signature of the detection field of Ivanova's fighter, which she had broadcast outward at maximum strength. The erstwhile captors were captured, their ships boarded and piloted back to Alliance space for the trial of their leaders and crews for piracy.

 

_In time of dire need, clever thinking is key._

Adapted from Aesop: The Kid and the Wolf.

 

 

**III**

 

Even rulers need time alone, away from their followers and the demands of their people. Delenn the Wise was one such ruler, and once every ten years she went on pilgrimage to various isolated holy sites of her tribe. She went alone, although this practice was frowned upon by her guards and especially by her war leader, Ivanova the Strong.

 

This particular time she had traveled to the cold mountain deserts of the western regions of her world. There was a temple, high in the clouds, maintained by only a few monks. It was said that the winds of the mountain played the spires of the temple like a ther'amin. Leaving the small settlement at the foot of the mountain early one morning, she began the ascent.

 

Just before the sun reached its zenith, Delenn encountered a widening in the steep track. To one side a small meadow flourished; tough, sharp mountain grass studded with small white snowflowers. She decided to pause here and eat her midday meal. As she finished her repast, a rumble of thunder caused her to look about for shelter. Short but violent summer storms sometimes arose in this area, and she had no wish to arrive at the monastery soaked to the skin. In the side of the mountain was a cleft in the rock, a cave just wide enough for entry but expanding beyond the opening into a dry stone floor with a high arching roof. A spectacular spear of lightning convinced her to take refuge in the cave until the storm passed. A few stubs of candle ends and a few carefully arranged flat topped rocks told her she was not the first pilgrim to use this refuge. After her meal she lit one of the candles and sat down to mediate and wait out the storm.

 

A blinding flash and loud boom was succeeded by a deafening rockfall that closed the mouth of the cave nearly to the top. Delenn re-lit the candle, blown out by the rush of air that accompanied the slide of stone, and examined the pile of various sized rocks, stones, and scree. She began to methodically take one stone after another from the pile, from the top where she could still see a patch of grey sky, putting them to one side or another of the cave's original opening. One by one she removed what she could, cautiously when it came to larger rocks, not wanting to send them tumbling down on herself. When she had a large enough opening, she began to alternate adding stones to the interior piles, and pitching smaller stones out the opening to attract the attention of any passers-by.

 

After a few hours of this, she heard the whir of flyer engines approaching, then cutting off as if landing nearby. She shouted for help, uncertain if she could be heard, then tossing a slightly larger stone out of the opening to hear an answering 'Ouch!'

 

Standing on tiptoe, she cupped her hands to project her voice and called. “Ivanova? Is that you? What are you doing here?”

 

“Rescuing you, and getting a concussion for my trouble,” a familiar voice grumbled. “Stand back, we've got some anti-grav equipment that'll clear this out in a minute.”

 

Once the rocks were removed, Ivanova entered and observed the neat piles of stone. “You kept busy, I see. Never one to sit and wait on rescue, are you?”

 

“Valen helps those who help themselves,” replied Delenn, leaning a little on her friend's strong arm as she was led out to the flyer.

 

_L_ _ittle by little does the trick._

Adapted from Aesop: The Crow and the Pitcher.

 

 

**IV**

 

One evening in late spring Delenn the Wise was walking on the grounds of the Alliance headquarters, hands loosely clasped in front of her. Her lips were moving but no sound emerged. It was a rare opportunity for solitude, and respect kept her guards at a discreet distance. As it happened, there were no visitors allowed in the garden that day, so the long paths were empty.

 

As she paced and the guards followed, her progress was watched by Ivanova from an archway overhung by new leaves. The war leader emerged from the shadows and swiftly moved along the flagstone path to cut across Delenn's path.

 

“Talking to yourself is an early sign of insanity,” Ivanova remarked casually as she slowed her pace to match the other woman's.

 

“I do not believe I am in any danger,” answered Delenn calmly. “But I am certain you will let me know if you observe further evidence of mental disturbance.”

 

“You get up at dawn when there's no need to,” mused Ivanova. “Clearly a bad sign.”

 

“It is a promise to myself,” Delenn gently chided her. “You are aware of this, and yet you dwell on it.”

 

“I just can't get over someone getting up early just to watch the sun rise,” replied Ivanova, eyebrows raised to meet her hairline.

 

“It is the best time for it,” answered Delenn.

 

They walked along the path a while in silence. Delenn's lips began to move once again, and Ivanova regarded her with curiosity.

 

“What are you doing?” asked Ivanova.

 

“I am going over possible arguments that I might utilize in the upcoming negotiations. The treaty is in place, but it has not ended the acrimony and there are many issues to decide.” Delenn smiled briefly. “It is best to be prepared.”

 

“Always thinking ahead,” Ivanova laughed. “That reminds me. I had better go over the instructions for the security detail. The Ta'rei delegation arrived a few hours ago.”

 

“Better late than never,” replied Delenn. “Or at least, better before the Lacor get here too.”

 

_It is too late to whet the sword when the trumpet sounds._

Adapted from Aesop: The Wild Boar and the Fox 

 

**V**

It was late one winter when Delenn the Wise walked among the crypts of the fallen. Her people did not bury their dead, but set up memorials that reflected the lives of those gone beyond this Universe. This place, however, was for those who remained, captive in the cold prison of eternal sleep.She was searching for one particular name, inscribed on an upright tomb. As she turned down the row of sleeping warriors, she spied Ivanova the Strong, standing quite still, hands clasped behind her back, staring at a familiar name, bright letters carved into dull metal.

I thought I would find you here,” Delenn remarked as she came up behind her friend. Placing one hand on Ivanova's shoulder, she said with sympathy, “It has been a long time for him.”

You know, he promised me once, that he would come if I called him. From the ends of the Universe, he said he would come.” Ivanova's strong voice faltered in the telling.

He is caught between life and death, for now,” replied Delenn. “He would come if he could. If he ever can, he will. And he would not want you to wait in sorrow.”

I wondered sometime if he sought death,” said Ivanova. “He was not afraid of it.”Delenn shook her head. “He was not seeking death, but a reason to live. If he had remained with us, he might have found it in you.”It was Ivanova's turn to shake her head, her greying hair, loose for once, shifting gently from side to side. “I do not know if I could have loved him. Maybe...”

 

We both have so much,” said Delenn with a quiver of her lips as she traced the name and date on the chill slab. “We have each other. We have our work. We should not waste our time in sorrow over what is lost.”

Isn't the saying 'Sorrow not over what is lost forever'?” replied Ivanova, looking away as she brushed aside the tears she could not hold back.Delenn pulled her friend into a warm embrace and whispered, “But I do not believe they are lost forever. Just for a time. We will see them again, in a little while.”Ivanova pulled back slightly to stare once again at the nameplate, but she remained within Delenn's encircling arms. Stumbling over the words at first, she stated firmly, “There are no shadows where they're waiting.”And Delenn smiled as she answered, “No. There are not.”

 

_Sorrow not over what is lost forever_

Adapted from Aesop: The Labourer and the Nightingale


End file.
